The Only Exception
by Clove1113
Summary: Why she wanted to break. Clato oneshot just before the opening ceremony. Rated because it's the Hunger games and for very slight sexual references.


**If there are images in this attachment, they will not be displayed.** Download the original attachment

Author's note: Another Clove and Cato one-shot. Sue me! Just a little one about the opening ceremony. I might keep writing more one-shots, or even write her whole story if you guys like, but later, because I have way to many projects going on at the moment, anyway. Please read and review.

Disclaimer: I don't own hunger games, and I don't own The Only Exception by Paramore.

Gia

The only exception

"Don't be ridiculous." The dark haired girl scoffed.

"Me? Ridiculous? Never!" He reached down to ruffle her hair, only to have her well-practiced fingers clamp around his wrist. She was tiny, but man, she had big hands.

"Cato, I already had to sit through that being styled once, and I am telling you now, if you make me sit through it again, I will flay you into 56 pieces." Clove growled with her familiar glare.

The blond haired teen only laughed, breaking her hold on his wrist only to launch himself at her in a full blown attack.

"Don't get cocky now, dearest." Her sarcasm was tangible as she easily sidestepped him, her dress and heels not impeding her unmatched agility.

"But it's just so hard not to get cocky with you, Clo."

"Say that again, fireball?" She teased, jumping easily out of the way of his next attack.

"Well…" He grumbled something under his breath.

"Well, what?"

"Nothing." He reached down and affectionately flicked the back of her head.

Clove straightened, and distanced herself from the man who was now only her district partner, but used to be so much more. Bringing them back from their normal teasingly argumentative communication, and in her own way, trying to make him remember that they were in the games now, that only one would survive this, and she was having doubts that, towards the end, she would be able to bring herself to kill him. He copied her, and schooled his expression into a mask that despite both their efforts, he knew that the girl who leaned against the wall in a clearly unsuccessful attempt to regain her usually unshakable composer would see through easily. Not that anyone else could tell though.

The atmosphere was softened as the two stylists' strolled in like they were kids at their birthday party, or at least what Clove imagined that a child at a birthday party would look like, for she had never had one nor attended such a frivolous activity. District two simply did not have parties, except for the Capitolites, and on your birthday, you were hard pressed to get even a word of well wishes. The obvious exception to that rule was a child's twelfth birthday, the entering year to the reaping.

"Clove, don't you look just lovely?" her stylist asked her, a perky smile plastered on his face.

"And Cato, you look so, dashing!" His stylist ran her fingers lightly across his bare chest, and he took a huge step back. Clove couldn't help the slight scowl from marring her features, but then had to suppress a laugh when she looked between Cato and the stylist, who both looked like confused rabbits.

"It's okay, Galalia, he'll come around. You know how breathtaking the capitol is; dear Cato is just getting used to the luxury that surrounds him. Right Cato?"

"Uh…" He starts feebly.

"Yes, District two is very different from here." Clove said pushing herself off the wall to glare at all three of her companions.

"What is your district like? I've always wondered." Her stylist asked, Clove didn't remember his name.

"Well, it's quite bloody. Where I live, once a week there's a competition and whoever gets the highest score gets to kill a stranger. I've killed 56." Clove smirked at the horror filled looks on the Capitolites faces.

"Yeah, I still beat you though, I got 58 now." Cato retorted instantly.

"Maybe, but mine are always so, you know, artistic. And remember that one who fought back, you still have a scar from her pocket knife. Pitiful." Clove laughed openly at the glare Cato sent her, and the stylists shocked faces didn't really help her calm down. It was good to laugh again, even for a short time, the difficulty of the current situation receded, and she was just laughing. The emotions that had built up were too much, and she just had to laugh and laugh.

"Uh, Ms. Clove?" Cato's stylist, Galalia, asked. The look she gave Clove was just too much and she kept laughing, soon joined by the person who was her district partner, her friend, her confidant, her fellow tribute, but she knew she had to add a new word to her list now. Her lover.

She wasn't sure when her laughter turned to crying, when the tears started, but she knew they were there. They coursed down her cheeks, streaking her makeup. Her stylist made a distraught sound, and without thinking, Clove lashed out. Using his training instincts, Cato snatched her wrist before her fist could make contact with the young man's face. That's when Cato's tears started. For the first time in over 4 years, he cried. For himself. But more for the girl who meant so much to him. He moved to her, drawing her close, and for once, she didn't protest. She just clung to him. The stylists now forgotten, they cried. He brushed the tears from her cheeks, and wiped his own away more roughly.

"We can't cry, my love, we can't break now, we've stayed together for so long." He breathed, his breath making her dark tresses sway slightly.

"Why, Cato, why?" And he knew, they both knew, that her question wasn't why she couldn't break, but why she wanted to break. Why she loved him. Why she would die for him, and why he would for her.

Another author's note: How was it? It's my first time writing third person I think, and past tense too, so sorry if the writing is a bit choppy. I didn't know how to portray Cato really, but tell me how I did. If anyone has a one-shot request review or p.m. it and I'll write it for you. Check out my other stories. Please!

Gia

P.S. Thanks to Catchingfire75 for betaing, or I think she will, because I haven't actually sent it to her yet, but I'm doing that momentarily. Okay, I know, you all are thinking "Shut Up!" So bye


End file.
